Indiana Jones and Aphrodite's Curse
by jerri and arona
Summary: During a conference, Indy's assistant is kidnapped by Nazis when she becomes strangely attached to a relic that ends up being the amulet of Aphrodite. To stop the Nazis, Indy needs help from his father, his boss and an old girlfriend...
1. Prologue

Prologue  
  
Indiana Jones: archaeologist, professor, ladies man, hanging from a cliff. He weighed his options. If he let go of the rock, he would plunge down into the mist, and probably land in some very cold water or some very pointy rocks. If he pulled himself up, spear-toting pigmies awaited him.  
  
His free hand desperately clutched the rock and dirt, which was now eating away at his fingers, making the tips bleed and sting. His other hand was wrapped around a rather raggedy looking doll, the sweat from his palms making the job of holding the doll much harder.  
  
With his ear against the cliff (or rather, his head banging into the cliff as he swung back at forth) he could hear the pigmies approaching. They did not sound happy. That rope Marcus had suggested before he left was looking better and better. But that was all in the past, now.  
  
His leather jacket was beginning be a great burden, and his fedora was also holding some weight that Indy had not noticed before. The foot beats of the pigmies were growing closer every second. It seemed almost impossible that he had jumped off the cliff only moments before.  
  
He had to make a decision, and he had to make it now. Luckily, right when Indy was about to figure out a solution, the cliff made one for him. He heard a most discouraging crunching noise, and before Indy could even hope it was something else, he found himself tumbling, tumbling down. And as the pigmies and their spears grew smaller and smaller, and the pointy rocks and the ice cold water slowly became Indy's future, he couldn't help but smile.  
  
~*~  
  
"Oh, Dr. Jones," Anne McCoy gasped as she laid eyes on the bloodstained and thoroughly ruffed-up Indy, who had just stumbled into the archaeology office of Barnet College. "You went on the plane like that, didn't you?"  
  
Indy collapsed into the chair, and heaved out a huge sigh.  
  
Anne McCoy wasn't gorgeous, but she wasn't down right ugly. She had a certain attractiveness without looking like a super model, and that's how she went about things. She got things done her way, but the important thing was, she got things done. Indy was very confused as to why Marcus Brody had given him an assistant, and then it became quite clear when Marcus admitted that Anne was his niece. She wasn't a hopeless case at archaeology, but she knew one thing, and one thing only: Mythology. Ask her something about Noah's Arc, and she'd stare at you for a few seconds and walk away. But ask her something about a Golden Fleece, and she'd follow you until she'd finished the whole story.  
  
"Dr. Jones," Anne said, tipping some disinfectant onto some cotton balls, "how in the world did you do this?"  
  
Indy looked like the thing he least wanted to do was recount the fall. "Fell." He said, simply. Anne made a face at him, and adjusted her chunky brown glasses.  
  
"That clears it all up," she replied, gently touching the cotton ball to Indy's forehead, attempting to clean the huge gash that ran across his forehead. "You really need to be more careful, Dr. Jones. I don't think Irene could take it if you were out one more day."  
  
She was right. As wonderful as Indy's secretary, Irene, was, she wasn't up to taking care of all his classes for a week. Usually, he would leave Anne in charge, but she tended to mix up the Egyptian gods with the Greek.  
  
"Maybe I should call a doctor?" Anne asked, continuing to press the lukewarm cotton to Indy's head.  
  
"The bleeding will stop eventually." Indy said, wearily getting up. "Where's Marcus?"  
  
"He's in his office..." Anne said, looking confused. "Dr. Jones, I really think you should-..."  
  
But he was gone. 


	2. Getting Rid of Anne

Chapter 1  
  
Barnett College was not what you'd call an Ivy League school, but it suited Dr. Indiana Jones. There was a certain something about the place that made him stay, as much as the higher-ups would have liked him to leave. As good of a professor as Indy was, he was highly unorthodox and tended to be absent from more of his classes than the ones that he taught himself. His secretary, Irene, had gotten quite used to finding a letter on her desk from Dr. Jones instructing her on what to do with the class. This happened so often that Irene was addressed as 'professor' and when Indy did teach the class, he got some very confused looks from his pupils.  
  
However, Indy still got the same response after the confused looks. The females of the class would look up at him starry eyed and hang on his every word. The males would glare at him because the girls wanted nothing to do with him. Whenever tension would grow in the room (whatever type of tension that may be) Anne McCoy always seemed to either break something or fall over her own feet in the back of the room, momentarily drawing the attention to her.  
  
It wasn't that McCoy was clumsy, it was just that she wasn't graceful. Indy had learned not to let her near any open artifacts in the museum, for she often destroyed them while she was admiring them. She was a perfectly nice girl, and Indy liked her.  
  
When she was first brought to Barnett through her uncle, Marcus Brody, it was quite a scandal. Women were not considered the type to become doctors of anything, and it took her a while to earn her place in the school. Intitially against the idea of having any assistant, male or female, Indy eventually warmed up to the idea. Anne was good at keeping books and researching, and she had even come in handy in the field a couple times. But he still argued Marcus whenever he suggested that Indy should bring her along. Such was the case currently.  
  
"I don't see what help she could be, Marcus." Indy was saying, sitting sideways in a puffy arm chair in Marcus's office, going through the all too familiar conversation.  
  
"You always say that, and then she always comes in handy." Marcus replied, narly falling down as he attempted to sit on the edge of his desk.  
  
Indy rolled his eyes. Anne had obviously inherited a lot from Marcus.  
  
"Look," Marcus said, turning on the pleading expression. "This is just a little trip. You probably won't even do anything interesting. It's only a conference."  
  
"Which is exactly why I don't think that she should come with me!" Indy replied, raising his voice slightly. "She would just get in the way, and I get enough of that here."  
  
"Just let her come and see Greece." Marcus whined, "She would love it so much!"  
  
Indy was unconvinced.  
  
"Look," Marcus said, looking as if a battle was raging in his head. "If you let her go with you..." he paused, wighing his options. "I think she'll be perfectly fine with staying there, actually. And then, you'll be rid of her, and have your job allto yourself again."  
  
Indy raised an eyebrow. This was definitely an offer he couldn't refuse. As much as he liked Anne, he really wanted everything to be the way it was, without the random crashes during his class, without the constant trail of deatruction that followed her wherever she went. He eagerly took Marcus's offer.  
  
~*~  
  
"Greece!" Anne cried triumphantly as she hopped around her house, collecting her various books and bags that she intended to take with her.  
  
Marcus was sitting in the den, away from all the chaos that was occurring in the kitchen, bed room and living room. Anne finally emerged from the kitchen with 3 bags and a hat box. She was dressed in an ivory blouse and jacket, with a matching skirt that fell down to her calves. She had a very large sunhat on, that almost reached over her shoulders, and had a thick black ribbon tied around it. She was ready for a trip.  
  
"Promise me you'll be careful." Marcus said, in the same pleading tone he had given Indy before.  
  
"You know me, Marcus," she said, straightening her jacket. "I'll be good."  
  
"It's not you I'm worried about." He replied, "It's Dr. Jones." 


	3. Unexpected Company

Chapter 2  
  
Indy sat patiently in his car while he waited for Anne to drag the remainders of her luggage outside. He tapped the steering wheel as she struggled with loading one particularly large bag onto the roof of the automobile, and nearly ripped her dress.  
  
"Are you done?" he called casually as one of Anne's bags came falling down and she barely caught it.  
  
"Gimme a second." She replied through clenched teeth as she hoisted the bag back up onto its spot and wiped the sweat from her brow.  
  
She climbed into the front passenger seat and let out a long sigh. "If it falls while we're driving," she said, "just keep going."  
  
Indy started up the car and backed out of the slightly crooked driveway that Anne had put in herself. With a last glance at her sweet little cottage, Anne didn't even contemplate the thought that she might never see it again.  
  
"We just have to stop and pick up my father," Indy said as he took a turn on to Henry Jones Senior's road. Anne couldn't help but smile.  
  
Indy's father, like Indy, was an archaeologist, and one that everyone seemed to know and despise. Although not as unorthodox in his work as Indy, Henry Jones tended to be a bit of a playboy. It seemed that every time Anne ran in to him at a conference or something, he always had a new young thing on his arm, and this greatly disturbed Indy. Anne liked Dr. Jones Sr. very much, and highly respected him. But not as much as he would like her to.  
  
Indy pulled into the driveway of his father's house. It was a very modest looking house, with a little picket fence in the front, and a swing on the porch. Indy and Anne got out of the car and quickly walked the stone path up to the front door, where Henry was waiting for them.  
  
He looked young for his age. He was balding, and his beard and remaining hair was white and grey, but he still had something about him that made women swoon. He was dressed casually, and as usual, had his glasses on and a book in his hand. Indy was not surprised to see that it was the Bible, Henry's favourite thing to analyze and argue about.  
  
"Hello!" Henry greeted, opening up the front door and standing to the side to let Anne and then Indy inside. "I'll be ready in a moment. Please, come in and make yourselves comfortable."  
  
"Dad," Indy mumbled to his father, "Always putting on a show for a girl."  
  
Henry raised his eyebrow and gave his son that familiar crooked smile, but said nothing.  
  
Anne sat on the old dark yellow couch that sat in the middle of the living room, and looked over the contents of the coffee table. Noticing that Anne was deeply immersed in whatever there was that Henry had left out to entertain her, he turned to his father.  
  
"So, Dad," he said, pulling his father over to the mantle so they wouldn't be over heard, "I was looking through the plane tickets this morning before I left, and imagine my surprise when I found four tickets!" He paused, waiting for Henry to say that there must have been a mistake. "There are only three of us," Indy continued, "Me, you and her." He nodded to Anne, who was still soaking up the things on the coffee table.  
  
"Well, that's not completely true." Henry replied, "You see, that next ticket is for Mina."  
  
"Mina?" Indy scoffed, "Who the hell is Mina?"  
  
As if on queue, there was a thumping noise that meant someone was coming down the stairs. It ceased for a moment, and then a woman came breezing through the room, as if no one else was there but Henry.  
  
She was tall and skinny and she had beautiful, flowing blonde hair that went down to the small of her back. She was wearing a blue expensive looking kimono, and a large deal of makeup.  
  
"Henry," she said in a very matter-of fact voice, "Do you think this is too dressy for the air-..."  
  
She had just noticed the other people in the room. Well, she only noticed one of them.  
  
"Indiana Jones!" she whispered, her eyes growing wide with fury.  
  
"Willy?!" Indy exclaimed, suddenly feeling a sense of foreboding. "Mina stands for Wilhelmina?!"  
  
"YOU!" Willy looked as if she was about to pounce. "Ugh! Of all the Joneses in the world..."  
  
She hurriedly ran off, leaving Henry very confused, Indy wanting to murder his father, and Anne oblivious to everything.  
  
"She can't come." Indy said stubbornly.  
  
"And why not?" Henry asked.  
  
"Because she was..." Indy began, but couldn't find the words to finish it. "Me and Willy were..."  
  
"Oh, who HAVEN'T you been with?" Henry asked sarcastically.  
  
Indy heard Anne giggle.  
  
"You may be 'all grown up'," Henry said, "But I'm still your father. And I'm still a man. I have needs-..."  
  
"I don't want to know this!" Indy said crossing to the door in hopes of making his father stop talking about his very active love life. "I'll be waiting in the car."  
  
Indy left in a huff, still ready to clasp his hands over his ears if his father was about to divulge anything further.  
  
"That boy," Henry said, shaking his head, when Indy was out of earshot. He didn't finish his sentence.  
  
"He's just a little stressed." Anne said, looking up from the coffee table spreads for the first time. "He's had a lot to do lately. The board has been on his back lately about how often he's out of class. I think Irene's close to achieving an honorary doctorate at the rate we're going."  
  
"Maybe Greece will do him some good." Henry said, sitting down next to Anne. "He could use a vacation."  
  
~*~  
  
Indy had the unfortunate duty of sitting next to Anne on the plane. If they had been traveling by bus or car or any other form of transportation, Anne was a great companion. She was a good conversationalist and a fun person to be around, but she was scared to death of planes.  
  
As Indy sat next to her, she had strapped herself in as tight as possible without cutting off her circulation. She was clutching on to her arm rests so hard, she was putting permanent holes in them with her fingernails.  
  
"Anne," Indy said in a soft voice, so as not to startle her, "We haven't taken off yet."  
  
"Give her this." Henry said from the seat in back of Indy, shoving a bottle between Indy and Anne's seats.  
  
Indy took the bottle and read the label. "Rum, dad?"  
  
"It'll calm her nerves." Henry said, motioning to the sleeping Willy that sat next to him. Indy couldn't blame him.  
  
"She doesn't drink, Dad." Indy replied, shoving the bottle back over to his dad and looking forward. The engine began to rumble.  
  
"What does that noise mean?!" Anne exclaimed, shooting up in her seat. "Is that a bad noise?!"  
  
"You know what," Indy said, turning back to his father, "I might go for some of that rum."  
  
~*~  
  
The International Archaeological Association was not know for its glamorous accommodations for conferences. It was no surprise, therefore, when Anne, Indy, Henry and Willy found their hotel, it was rather run down and not very accommodating looking at all. Willy was about to complain, but really couldn't find the words to describe her anguish in staying at a hotel like this.  
  
The sign outside that was presumably supposed to read 'The Continental' instead stated 'Te Cntital'. The stucco walls were covered in some sort of dead mold that was peeling in the bright sun. The door was falling off its hinges, and the welcome mat had all kinds of interesting creatures squirming around in it. If there was one place to be described as a 'hellhole', this was it.  
  
The lobby was no better.  
  
Indy's first look at the place was of the information desk, which was so ridiculous that it could have easily been replaced with a cardboard box, and that would be more elegant.  
  
The floor was unpolished wood with a crudely done red 'carpet' painted across its center. There was a chandelier hanging above them made from shards of broken windows. It was pretty in a very creepy way. Anne made a point of standing out of its way, as it was hanging on a very unstable looking piece of twine.  
  
"Can I help you, sir?" the man at the information desk asked in a thick accent. He had a greasy looking black mustache and a white circular patch of skin on the top of his head.  
  
"Yes," said Indy, smiling to be polite, "We're with the archaeological conference."  
  
"Ah, yes." The man said, writing something down in a book that sat on the sad excuse for a desk. "Will that be four rooms?"  
  
"Yes-..." Indy began.  
  
"Three." His father interrupted.  
  
"No, dad." Indy replied, keeping his highly annoyed voice down. "You can do whatever you want at home, but not here. PLEASE not here."  
  
"Son," Henry replied in a whisper, "Just because YOU don't have any fun on conference trips does not mean I can't."  
  
Anne couldn't help but laugh. Not because what Henry said was the truth, but because it was so false it was bordering on the imbecilic. Indy was known for his promiscuity while on trips.  
  
"But then, you always have Anne, here." Henry added, winking at the blushing archaeologist.  
  
"No thanks, Henry." Anne teased, "As fond as I am of your son, I think I'll torture myself and get my own room."  
  
Like most women that met Dr. Indiana Jones, Anne had a bit of a crush on him when they first met. But soon, everything was business. Anne grew to know Indy quite well over the short years that she had worked with him, but they were only friends. She had convinced herself that due to the fact that she wasn't exactly a supermodel put a damper on any relationship with men. She was not aware of the special effect her personality had on them.  
  
Indy quickly got the keys to everyone's room, hoping that the faster he did it, the fewer obnoxious comments from the direction of his father would be present. He passed them out without a word, and proceeded up the termite infested stairs to his room. He was on the left side, his father and Willy across from him, and Anne directly next to his room.  
  
"See you later, then." Anne muttered to Indy as she went into her room. Indy would probably go out that night, see some sights and browse the city. But he knew Anne would be in her room all evening, looking over her notes. The people that would be at tomorrow's convention were mostly male and truly believed that a girl like Anne's place was in the kitchen. Anne always felt she had something to prove, and that usually resulted in humiliating herself and then going out to get drunk. But she had promised herself that it wouldn't happen this time.  
  
~*~  
  
Indy returned from his city adventures early in the morning. He was astounded to see that his bedside clock read 3 AM. He could have sworn it couldn't be passed eleven thirty.  
  
He was about to settle in to bed when he wondered how Anne was doing. With a squeak from the springs, he rose from his mattress and crossed the room to the door that adjoined his room and Anne's. He knocked.  
  
"Anne?" he called. No answer. He would have thought her to be asleep, but he could tell that the light was on from the glow under the door. He turned the doorknob and pushed open the door.  
  
"Anne?" he called again. Still no answer. Why was apparent when he completely opened the door.  
  
Anne was sitting at her desk, completely passed out over a stack off papers she had been poring over. There was a cup of cold coffee next to her hand, which was curled around a pencil. Her glasses sat next to the coffee, and her breathing came in short little bursts. She was out.  
  
He couldn't help but smile. He kept telling her that this would happen eventually. She looked so peaceful; it would have been a shame to wake her. She was very pretty in this state. Almost like an old painting. A beauty from a completely different era.  
  
He put his arm around her waste, and the other around her knees, and gently lifted her up and placed her on the bed. She noticed nothing. He put her head on a pillow, and a blanket over her body. She was still out like a light. Marcus always said that she could sleep through a train wreck.  
  
Indy extinguished the lamp and walked back into his room. It felt different to take care of Anne. She was usually the one to make sure he was somewhere on time and get him his coffee and teach his class when he was away. He suddenly realized how hard that must be for her. She spent such a long time in college to get her doctorate, and then she ends up working as an assistant to a man who hardly ever said thank you. He made a mental note to do that next time.  
  
~*~  
  
The conference began a half hour late. It had been going on for about two hours now, and the room was restless.  
  
Everyone was crammed into a room that was much too small for more than 25 people. There were two long tables, complete with rickety old chairs that could hardly hold a child, let alone grown men.  
  
Indy and Henry were stationed in the front, whereas Anne was in the very back. Willy had decided that she had more interesting things to do, to the delight of Dr. McCoy, and went shopping instead.  
  
There was a plump man sitting at the head of the room. His name was Edgar Read, and he was the head of the IAA. He had a rather bushy mustache, and hardly any neck. He was wearing a rather ugly green sweater vest, and spoke with a tinge of Oxford in his accent. He was going on about something that was discovered in Greece a few days ago.  
  
Anne was twiddling her thumbs in the back of the room, fondling some of the artifacts that were sprawled out over the tables. She wrapped a long gold chain around her finger as she stared deep into the lovely opal that it held.  
  
"Miss McCoy?" Edgar said, quite annoyed that she wasn't really listening to his speech, "I know it's very shiny and pretty, but could you please put it down?"  
  
There was a scatter of laughter in the room as Anne dropped the opal and sunk into her seat.  
  
"Thank you, Miss-..." Edgar began.  
  
"Doctor." Anne corrected. This was the last straw for Edgar. He was the main reason Anne had so much trouble in the world of archaeology. He had his foot down when it came to women: he wanted none of them in his site when it came to the working world. He had spent the last few years trying to get Anne back into a kitchen, which was interesting, because Anne could hardly cook toast without turning into hopeless (and tasteless) mush. 'Take- Out' was her middle name.  
  
"Excuse me, McCoy," Edgar said, his voice dripping with malice, "As long as I am head of this association, you are still 'miss' in this room. Is that clear?"  
  
Anne made no reply. She rose, pushed in her chair with a gargantuan slam, and left the room.  
  
"Women." Edgar said with a chuckle as if nothing had happened, "Anyway, as I was saying..."  
  
Anne was so angry she didn't realize that the gold chain, complete with the gold set opal was still wound around her right index finger.  
  
~*~  
  
The conference went on very much like that through the whole thing. Edgar had a way of making even the most gruesome details sound like a prep on dental hygiene. The room was sweltering and muggy, and no one seemed to want to stick around. Even Edgar's voice was getting hoarse, but he would simply take a sip of water and drone on.  
  
Indy looked at his watch for the sixth time within the past three minutes. It was official: this day is the day that would never end. He sighed deeply and tried to turn his attention back to the speaker.  
  
"-was discovered just this morning in the temple." Edgar was saying. "Francoise, could you pass it down?"  
  
The man called Francoise, who was sitting next to Anne's vacant seat, searched the table for Edgar's device.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said, "Which did you want?"  
  
Edgar heaved a sigh. "The opal on the golden chain."  
  
Francoise took another look around the table. Rock, rock, tablet, rock, rock, pencil. "I don't see it." He said, hoping that the necklace was misplaced and Edgar wouldn't have to blame the loss on him.  
  
Edgar rushed over. "What?" he whispered. He scanned the tables quickly, searching desperately for the artifact, but in vain. "Where is it?!" he bellowed, looking under tables and wall hangings.  
  
"Dr. Jones, may I speak with you?" Edgar said swiftly, and left the room in a rush.  
  
~*~  
  
Because Edgar did not specify which Dr. Jones he wanted, he got them both. It did not seem to disturb him at all.  
  
Henry and Indy were seated in cushy green chairs in front of Edgar's mahogany desk. He sat for a moment puffing a foul smelling cigar and seemed to be contemplating something important.  
  
"I need you to do something for me." Edgar said; smoke streaming out of his mouth and distorting his voice slightly. Indy and Henry were brought to attention.  
  
"That opal is very important." Edgar continued, "We need to get it back."  
  
"If you don't mind me saying so," Indy commented, sitting up in his chair, "it was just an opal. The tablets on the tables were much more valuable-..."  
  
"You don't understand," Edgar said, "We have very good reason to believe that it is Aphrodite's Opal."  
  
Indy was not shaken by the comment, but Henry gasped.  
  
"Really!" he said, looking very impressed, "That's something! And you just found this the other day?"  
  
"I have no time for this small talk," Edgar said impatiently, waving his hand. "It's gone. And if you're familiar with the story, you know it would be very bad if it fell into the wrong hands. And there is one pair of wrong hands that I'm sure wouldn't mind getting a hold on it."  
  
"You don't mean-..."  
  
"I do." Edgar replied, taking another puff of his cigar, "You know how the fuehrer is into the occult. He'll do anything to get his hands on it."  
  
"Uh," Indy said, "I'm kind of in the dark here."  
  
"I'll explain it to you later." Henry said, a bit embarrassed that his own son didn't know this simple fairy tale. "We have no time to loose."  
  
"Thank you, doctors." Edgar said, "I'm at your disposal. You can have whatever you'll need."  
  
Edgar stood up and shook the Jones's hands and opened the door for them to exit. The door shut behind them, and Indy followed his father out of the building.  
  
"Hey dad," Indy suddenly remembered, "Where's Anne?"  
  
~*~  
  
Anne was face down on a disgusting part of the hotel bar, her face becoming imprinted by the bowl of pretzels it was engrossed in. Her hand was clasped around a scotch, and she let out of low groan as she realized where she was.  
  
"Oh," she whined, "I'm in the pretzels."  
  
She lifted her face out of the bowl and pulled of the couple pretzels that had stuck to her forehead.  
  
"Anything else, ma'am?" the bartender asked as she flung the last pretzel behind her.  
  
"Can I have some pink champagne?" Anne slurred, emptying the last of her scotch.  
  
"I don't think it would be a good idea for you to have any more." The bartender replied, taking her empty scotch glass.  
  
"Oh, I won't drink it." Anne said, popping a pretzel into her mouth, "I just want to look at it. I like the color."  
  
The bartender gave her a strange look and went off to fetch some pink champagne.  
  
"That's a very pretty bracelet you got there." The man next to Anne said to her, pointing to the gold opal necklace still wrapped around Anne's hand. "Where'd you get it?"  
  
Anne thought for a minute. "I don't know." She said slowly, but she thought it was a very good response considering she could hardly remember her first name at the moment.  
  
Usually Anne would have noticed something very suspicious, but she was so intoxicated that it didn't occur to her. The man sitting on her right, the man sitting on her left. The swastikas on their arms. The man on her left pulling a bottle out of his pocket and dabbing it on a rag.  
  
Anne suddenly snapped back to reality, but that was the exact moment the left man struck. He put his arm around her shoulder and slapped the cloth to her face. She flailed for a moment and fell limp in the Nazis' arms.  
  
The bartender came back with the pink champagne.  
  
"What happened here?" he asked, somewhat suspicious.  
  
"Our friend has had a little too much to drink." One of the men said. "We'll take her back to her room."  
  
"Yeah," the bartender laughed, "I've never seen someone take in so much alcohol in so little time. She needs some rest."  
  
The men said goodbye and hoisted Anne up. They left the bar without anyone giving them a second glance.  
  
~*~  
  
Indy was meanwhile searching the hotel lobby. Anne was nowhere to be seen.  
  
"Any luck?" Henry asked, coming up behind him.  
  
"No." Indy said, still looking around, his mind racing as he tried to fathom where Anne could be.  
  
"Did you check the bar?" Henry asked.  
  
"Anne doesn't drink." Indy replied, sitting down on one of the overstuffed lobby couches.  
  
"Well," Henry said, sitting beside him, "If anyone had treated ME like that, I know I'd be getting myself completely and utterly drunk."  
  
~*~  
  
Indy approached the bar, looking for any sign of Anne. Nothing out of the ordinary. Some pretzels on the floor, a pink champagne sitting unmanned towards the end of the bar.  
  
"Is there anything I can get you?" the bartender asked Indy as he picked up the pink champagne to clean.  
  
"Was there a lady in here within the last hour or so?" Indy asked, "Blonde, about five and a half feet tall. Wearing a beige skirt and blouse."  
  
"Oh, sure." The bartender said. "She was here for about three quarters of an hour. Drank three times her body weight. She left with some German friends."  
  
Indy didn't even wait to here the rest of what the bartender had to say. He ran swiftly out the bar and practically dove out the exit.  
  
He scanned the streets for any sign of Anne. He brushed passed groups of people, barely missed a fruit stand and knocked over an ill place street sign. Anne was no where to be seen.  
  
Just as he was rushing to the hotel to find his father, he heard it.  
  
"INDY!"  
  
Indy turned around, hoping to catch a glance of Anne. But he saw Willy instead, running towards him with three shopping bags flanking her arms.  
  
"Indy, I thought you and Henry had gone to Italy!" Willy said, laughing. "I saw a woman who looked just like Anne getting into a car, and someone said 'Venice'! Can you imagine! I thought you were-..."  
  
"Willy, where was it going?" Indy asked, taking her by the shoulders.  
  
"What does it matter?" Willy asked, still laughing a bit. "Venice I think they said. They were heading to the airport I think."  
  
"Come on." Indy said, taking her by the arm and dragging her back to the hotel.  
  
"Where are we going?" Willy asked, trying to keep up.  
  
"We need to hear a few fairy tales." He replied. 


End file.
